He had come out on the side of the mountain. Far below him lay the sand hills, bathed in moonlight, extending off in the distance as far as he could see, while directly at his feet ran a narrow trail, which seemed to go winding higher up the mountain, passing under the shelf. Away down the trail he could see two figures mounted upon horses making their way up the mountainside, but he could not, from his position, make out just where the two men were standing, although he could hear their voices plain enough. Was it really the man Martin Mudd? It seemed so strange that he should have dreamed about him and that his dream should come out partially true like this. Dick craned his neck over the rock as far as he dared, catching sight of the men at last as they stood there leaning against the wall directly underneath the overhanging ledge. It was Martin Mudd, sure enough. The moon shone directly upon him, and, although the glance was a brief one, Dick could see him plainly. He pulled back quick and crouched upon the rock, listening, for Mudd had begun to talk again. “Yes, Tony,” he was saying, “this is a case of revenge upon the old man in part and a case of true love for the other part. You may think me looney, but I actually have fallen in love with Clara Eglinton and I am determined to make her my wife.” “Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed the concealed Tony. “Your wife! Why, she might as well be the wife of a coyote. Ho! Ho! Ho!” “What do you mean, you pigeon-breasted tenderfoot!” cried Mudd. “I’d have you to understand I am about to come into a fortune. As soon as I put a knife into Dick Darrell’s heart I collect $10,000. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. Call me a coyote, indeed.” Dick was lost in amazement. For the life of him he couldn’t imagine what it all meant. “Who in the world wants me out of the way?” he thought again and again, as he listened to still further conversation about mines and mining, which did not interest him at all. All this time the two figures on the horses were coming steadily on up the trail. Mudd was evidently watching through a night glass, for once he made a remark about its being misty. At last he suddenly exclaimed: “Here they are. Lay low, Tony. You jump in and pretend to seize Bill. I’ll take care of the girl.” Dick stood up, clutching a heavy stone in each hand. “Halt, there!” shouted Tony, suddenly springing out of his concealment as the forward horse came around the turn in the rocks. “Miss Clara, your most obedient,” said Martin Mudd, also stepping out into view. “Sorry to detain you on your way to join your father at the mine, but I have a little business to transact with you.” The girl screamed. Bill pretended to resist and did some threatening, but yielded to Tony without a struggle just the same. “Get off the horse,” cried Mudd. “Now, then, no nonsense, my dear; you are in my power. Unless something drops I----”